


Playing House

by mangameat



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangameat/pseuds/mangameat
Summary: Ten years into the future, Abe finds himself in a tough spot that he can't seem to admit despite everything. Few are left to support Abe due to his alcohol abuse and Haruna is only around because they've been together for years, neither want to go through the trouble of dating again. "Might as well," they told each other despite each other's horrible flaws. At least Abe still has someone willing to help him when he's back to his habits.Based off a timeline/AU I spoke about with a friend, this fic was written in late 2013.





	Playing House

**Author's Note:**

> I don't read or post any comments, sorry!

When Abe Takaya made the announcement to his family, he didn’t quite get the response he had hoped for; then again, he almost never did with them. The look on his parents’ face was complete shock while his younger brother simply, yet very rudely, asked “...Why?” Takaya didn’t quite know how to respond to his brother’s potentially rhetorical question, and the more he thought about it, he realized he wasn’t sure why. The young man had no idea why he was honestly doing this. What he was doing, from the looks of it, was marrying Haruna Motoki. Something he was half confident and vaguely optimistic about, at least until the news was broken to his family. It had been weeks since then, his mother playing the part of supportive and ever-understanding parent. His father, on the other hand, wanted very little to do with the wedding and for reasons he commonly stated through direct confrontation with Takaya. At least once a week, father Abe would ask his son some of the most difficult questions the man has ever had to consider. “Do you  _ really _ love him, Takaya?”

Every time he stared at his father with each new question, feeling like he had gone back in time to when he was a small child. “Yes, of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t want to go through with this.” His answer would always be a defensive response, making the older man take a deep breath and size up his own son. “I already know that you’ve never liked him, dad, and if that’s what this is about--”

“No,” Immediately his soon-to-be tantrum was cut off by his father’s bellowing voice, “I just don’t think you’re marrying him for the right reasons. You’re obviously too stubborn to see it now, so you will when it’s too late.” At the time, that was possibly the worst thing Takaya could have heard despite the fact that it was the most helpful.

When the time came, Takaya’s father did not appear for the wedding and his mother, again, only showing up for support with younger brother Shun. She wouldn’t miss any major event her children had for anything in the world, no matter how much she may have agreed with his father.

The wedding was very small despite the fair number of invitations sent. Hanai Azusa, his best man and best friend, reassured him that it was difficult to get Tuesdays off work. Takaya lied to himself and agreed, despite the bitter taste in his mouth. One of the most important people in his life refused to show and it felt as if the world followed him; like everyone was against the most significant day of his life. Takaya had promise Motoki that he wouldn’t touch the bottle at least for today, he would stay sober at least for twenty four hours but it was unfortunately a promise he now felt he couldn’t keep.

Azusa watched with great disappointment as the smaller man prematurely opened a bottle of champagne that he seemed to have swiped from the caterer, finishing the bottle himself just in time for the ceremony. Even as the taller man watched the whole pointless endeavor, he stayed quiet only until it was time for him to assist Takaya to the alter. All eyes were on the two of them, both being late as Azusa and Takaya made their way to the podium; Motoki burning holes into both men until the pastor started to speak. Every so often Takaya would look to his right, beyond his partner to gaze at the emergency exit, in his drunken mind wondering how fast he could run to it.

When time came to read their vows, many claimed that they were beautiful if not the most genuine they had ever heard. Takaya’s were slurred words of generic affection, and Motoki’s were of similar content only at least five more minutes of time were spent on writing them. It was obvious their wedding was nothing to brag about. Takaya was drunk again, almost without failure, while Motoki sat steaming beside him during their reception and doing his best to ignore his now husband as he ate and chatted with family members. It was during that time, as Takaya sat at the table while staring blankly while all the voices speaking excitedly around him, that he realized why he was marrying Motoki. The alcohol-driven epiphany sickened him and made his stomach feel as though it was tying itself into thick, heavy knots. And worst of all, it was too late; just as his father said. He married this man, this  _ person _ , not for love… But for comfort and familiarity. In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, he was now eternally bound to Haruna; the one person who hated him most on the planet at this very moment. Every opportunity he got away from his table or alone, he drank as many flutes of champagne he could manage without being disturbed. He no longer wanted to be Abe Takaya, or any variation of himself. He just wanted to disappear.

Eventually Azusa decided to quietly go on the hunt for the stressed groom, anxiously hoping to find him before Haruna did. It only took him a quick five minutes before finding the man on the floor, another empty champagne bottle laying next to him. The expression on the alcoholic’s face looked as if he was trying to think of something to say, some kind of shitty and extremely obvious lie as to why he was on the floor but instead, he just looked away from the taller man. Azusa knew when and how Takaya lied, and in his drunken stupor, he didn’t have the energy to even attempt. Azusa felt as if he couldn’t be anymore disappointed or pained to see his best friend like this. He eventually sat on the floor next to him, looking him over as he gave a heavy sigh, holding his very cold and clammy hand. He stayed quiet, it was not his place and right now Takaya needed someone; a friend.

Takaya turned his head to look at the man when he felt his rough hands engulf his own, examining his buzz cut before his face. “I  _ know  _ you want to fuckin’ say  _ something _ …” he slurred, trying his best not to reveal his embarrassment and humiliation. Azusa shook his head, still saying nothing. “You know what, Hanai…? Fuck you. I know exactly what you’re goddamn thinking and  _ fuck you _ . I’m just… stressed a little. You know. Things are going to be okay…” Takaya looked away as he found the silence uneasy. He attempted to focus on a distant chair that seemed to dance in place before turning his attention back to his best friend. The taller man looked as though he was about to start crying. “Hanai…”

“It’s not my place, Abe, but… if you’re ever not okay, you know I’m here for you. I’ll always be here and I always have been,” he ran a hand over the stubble on his scalp as he tried to compose himself, squeezing the smaller man’s hand for a moment, “I know you’ll be okay. You  _ have _ to be okay.”

Takaya wasn’t sure what was going on but regardless he felt a growing pain in his chest, his throat tightening at his friend’s words and stiffened at his lies. At this point, Takaya was more than sure that things weren’t going to be fine but he had to force it. It was obvious Azusa knew the truth, but being as respectful as he was, he would never tell him outright. Not on today of all days. He sat himself up briefly to lean in closer to his best man who was still trying to calm himself, unable to stop his immediate next thoughts from hitting the sensitive man. “Hanai, shut the  _ fuck _ up.” He ran a hand over his hairs in confusion, his tears disappearing from his eyes as he started at Takaya and tried to lean away before the smaller man grabbed his waistcoat to keep him close. “Just… shut up. You and I both know how things are going to go, and honestly, I wouldn’t doubt it if Motoki knew too… But right now, we’re here. And I’m supposed to be happy and you’re supposed to be happy too, got it? Pull this mopey shit again and I’ll shove my wingtips so far up your ass that you won’t shit for a year.”

He looked at Takaya for what felt like ages before a smile began to pull at his lips, a near silent chuckle escaping them for a brief moment. Azusa would do everything to fake it if it meant that Takaya could make it through another twenty four hours; the smallest step to the rest of his life in this precursor to hell. They both knew it and it was no secret, but the least that could be offered was Azusa’s companionship. Shakily sighing, the taller man moved to lay next to his drunk friend and wrapped his arms around him. He squeezed gently which prompted Takaya to return the reassuring affection, closing his eyes as he felt the best man nuzzle his head into his chest for a moment. Takaya remembered the one time this was more than just a reaffirming action with Azusa, the one time it wasn’t a symbol of hope and instead a gesture of potential love.

The two of them could have stayed like that for hours and Takaya man definitely wished they did, but instead Azusa would sit up and help Takaya to his feet, reminding him that his husband was waiting. They make their way back to the dining hall, Motoki glancing at the both of them without attempting to hide how livid he was at them both but would continue to smile and participate in conversation. Azusa managed to return Takaya to his seat next to Motoki who only glances over at his beloved and friend, gesturing then for the taller man to leave and announcing the cutting of the cake a moment after.

The rest of the wedding is difficult to recall but all Takaya knows is that he’s now laying on the couch of their honeymoon hotel suite. Motoki didn’t want him to share the bed or even touch him, which he normally considered understandable for breaking a very important promise, but tonight it felt like this was his new life. Alone, wreaking of alcohol, and miserable what was left of Abe Takaya. Fading in and out of blackouts and sleeping on the couch, being unhappy and even  _ angry _ with himself... Being unhappy and angry with Motoki. This was now to be an everyday routine. Again, he felt sick but he knew it was from everything except all the booze; it was from the eternity that was now the biggest mistake he had ever managed to get caught up in. His father was right, it was too late.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't read or post any comments, sorry!


End file.
